Kitten's Corpse
by Minerva Solo
Summary: Short fic, rated mostly for language. The Schwarz pet dies, which upsets Nagi, which upsets Farf, which is very upsetting for everyone within a ten mile radius, as a general rule.


**Kitten's Corpse**

_Disclaimer: Schwarz, Weiss and all the little kitty cats do not belong to me, and I'm making no money from this._

"It's not the end of the world, you know," Schuldig said depreciatingly.  
  
"Yeah, because, well, we'd know," Nagi spat back.  
  
"Things die all the time," Schuldig insisted.  
  
Nagi just glowered at him.  
  
"I'm not holding a funeral for the bloody cat!" Schuldig shouted. "I'm _glad_ it's dead. It ate and shat and brought in half dead rodents. Nothing else."  
  
"It purred."  
  
"Stay out of this, Farf," Schuldig yelled without taking his eyes off Nagi.  
  
"I _liked_ it," Nagi insisted. "It was the only thing in this goddamn flat that liked _me_!"  
  
A door slammed before Schuldig could make good his retort. They both turned to look at the empty space where Farfarello had been standing moments before.  
  
"Oh well done," Schuldig sniped. "Speak without thinking, why don't you. Take the Lord's name in vain."  
  
"I didn't," Nagi grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. "Farfarello would _want_ to live in a god damned flat. His presence makes it so."  
  
"Well, you can go after him. I'm done rounding him up after these nun-bashing fiascos. Dented my car last time."  
  
"I bet we'd have a funeral if your _car_ died," Nagi muttered petulantly as he slunk out of the flat. "Broke. Crashed. Whatever."  
  
He found Farfarello sitting at a bus stop. It was pouring down with rain, but everyone else who had intended to take the bus was either standing several metres away getting wet or had elected to walk home. Nagi sat down next to the Irish man and stared at his feet, not sure of what to say. Eventually he let one hand slip out and curl, warm and dry, around Farfarello's scarred palm.  
  
"I didn't mean it like that," he said eventually.  
  
"Yes you did," Farfarello told him.  
  
"I was mad at Schuldig," Nagi tried again. "And upset about the cat. I wasn't thinking."  
  
"That doesn't mean you didn't mean it."  
  
"I know," Nagi sighed, defeated.  
  
Farfarello squeezed his hand. "Why did you think it?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know," Nagi said wretchedly. "Maybe I doubt, okay? You're hardly the most rational and reliable of people."  
  
"I'm not fickle," Farfarello said calmly. "I have devoted myself to hurting God, and you never see me wavering from that, do you?"  
  
"Exactly," Nagi said miserably. "If you're devouted to that, how can you be devouted to me, or anything else?"  
  
Farfarello turned to look at him, leaning back against the shelter. "You're not... jealous, are you?" he asked cautiously.  
  
Nagi sniffed. "A little," he admitted.  
  
They sat there for a while, in the rain. Ocasionally Farfarello squeezed Nagi's hand tighter, or caressed the back of it with his thumb, but other than that neither of them moved.  
  
"Look," Farfarello said eventually. "A pigeon."  
  
Nagi looked at the bird. "Yes," he said solemnly. "A pigeon."  
  
"Do you want to go and steal a new cat from the flowershop?" Farfarello asked. The pigeon fluttered closer, and he reached out for it.  
  
"Yeah," Nagi smiled. "But I'm still going to make Schuldig hold funeral for the old one."  
  
They set off together, hand in hand, both enjoying the stares and frowns they got for it. It was after closing time for the florist-assassins, so the shop was locked up, but it wasn't unusual to find one or two felines prowling around outside. They found a bench around the corner for the shop, and set up their silent vigil.  
  
Except it wasn't silent for long. "Farf," Nagi began, half whispering in the darkness, "I'm sorry."  
  
"I can't give up my purpose," Farfarello said a bit stiffly.  
  
"I know," Nagi said quietly. "I'm not going to ask you to."  
  
"I can't give up you, either," Farfarello said a little more softly. He put an arm around Nagi's shoulder and hugged the younger teen to him.  
  
Nagi nestled into Farfarello's shoulder. "Even if I only get you for a short while, and even if I have to share you with the Devil, it's still better than not having you at all," he said sincerely.  
  
"'For a short while'?" Farfarello frowned. "You're not still worried about me changing my mind, are you?"  
  
Nagi grimaced. "You forget me, sometimes," he forced himself to say. "I don't see you for days. You ignore me. I know it's not deliberate - when you're lucid you're always good to me - but it still isn't fun. I'm just scared that one day your obsession will take over every corner of your life, permanently, leaving no space for anything else." He looked up at Farfarello, features set. "But I'm going to stick with you til that day comes anyway."  
  
"It's not certain," Farfarello said, sounding not certain himself.  
  
"That the day will come?" Nagi gave him a stern look. "Of course it will, Farf. But chances are we'll all be dead anyway."  
  
Farfarello grinned. "True," he admitted. "Of course, once we're in Hell you'll still be mine, and I yours."  
  
That wrangled a smile from Nagi as well. "That's _eternal_ love," he chuckled.  
  
There was a soft mewing sound, and they looked down to find a feline sitting at their feet. Farfarello reached into his pocket and held out the pigeon. It jumped eagerly into his lap. Nagi smiled and stroked it's hea while Farfarello ripped the wings of the bird and started feeding the bloody, feathery mass to the cat.  
  
"What do you want to call it?" Farfarello asked.  
  
Nagi shrugged. "Why don't we let Schuldig or Crawford name it, like we did the other one? We get the most interesting names that way."   
  
Farfarello looked down at their new pet. "Bet he won't be a patch on old 'Sodoff'," he said mournfully. "I'd only just trained him to take the mice straight to Schuldig's bed."   
  
"I miss 'Not another one of the buggers' the most," Nagi added. "It was brilliant when she had kittens all over Crawford's socks."   
  
They looked down at the young cat, who was battling the dead pigeon and gnawing on its head.   
  
"Bet the first thing," Farfarello paused and lifted up the cat's tail, "_she_ does on getting home is throw up."   
  
"I hope so," Nagi grinned wickedly.   
  
"So do I," Farfarello agreed. He leant over and kissed Nagi on the cheek. "Are things better now?" he asked, still a little unsure of himself.   
  
"Of course," Nagi reassured him. "All I want to do have nice, hot, make up sex and curl up with you and what will probably be known as 'get that little furball out of my flat'. Sound like a good plan?"   
  
Farfarello grinned ferally. "I'll make _you_ purr," he told his young lover. 


End file.
